Root of All Evil
by Gadrin
Summary: The Splynn Caper -- what happens to a Phase World thief sent to Atlantis? Please R&R.


  
_The Splynn Caper -- What happens when you're the low man on the totem pole of a group of professional thieves? _

_A comedic mixture of Rifts, Phase World, Aliens Unlimited and Mystic China._

_Rifts, Phase World, Aliens Unlimited, Mystic China, Atlantis, Splynn, Zembahk, Toke Tuul, Kittani Hover Pod, High Lord T'Lan and many, many others are all © Palladium Books._

_Thanks to Harry Harrison for the Stainless Steel Rat, Terry Pratchett for Discworld, Daniel Greenberg for his Song to End All Songs from the Sinful Stars (Fading Suns RPG) and many, many others._

  
_ROOT OF ALL EVIL_   
"Business or pleasure?" 

The answer was invariably the same no matter where my travels took me, so I gave it to him in the same lifeless, monotone I'd come to know and expect from customs officials the megaverse over.

"A little of both."

Save for the unusual tattoo he had of a large eye on his forehead, the attendant looked human. I had no idea what body changes his robe might be hiding. Not a bad looking fellow from what I could tell. 

"You're a Toke Tuul."

It sounded more like a question than a statement so I nodded.

"You're human?" I asked.

"Atlantean," he corrected. "How long do you expect to stay in Splynn sir?"

"Two weeks," I lied, mind block firmly in place. I hoped not. I'd been given ten days to conduct my business and return home. Oh, I'd seen the tourist vids on Phase World, but word-of-mouth spoke louder than any Splugorth promotional propaganda could. And spending a week in this demon-infested hell-hole was neither my idea of business or pleasure. I had no intention of staying one minute longer in this cess pit of interdimensional slavery than necessary.

As the Atlantean stamped my travel papers and updated his database, I ventured a look around. There was a bowling ball-sized eye floating next to me, it seemed to be studying my magic boots.

The pyramid's interior was bright, the illusion of a large skylight on the facing side with sunlight streaming in was reminiscent of a few starports I'd visited in the Three Galaxies. Minutes earlier I'd been in Gateland, Center's massive interdimensional portal complex. Surprisingly the interior of the Atlantian pyramid was clean, much more so than it's counterpart on Phase World. So much for the crack about a cess pit. Of course here there were slaves mulling about, tending to anything that was out of place. Center used robots for menial tasks. Nearby, a pair of humanoids with bird-like features were helping a woman with her bags; a creature with stilts for legs and the face of a Bruzulo housefly stood a few aisles over, quietly reading a newspaper; and a pair of Kydians stood guard at the end of the arrival concourse. No melees, no public floggings. Things were quiet and peaceful. Elegant sculpture and masonry abounded, even if it was ego-centric. Perhaps I was over-reacting. The denizens of Atlantis weren't that much more evil looking than any of those of Center -- depending on how many levels you sank -- and they possessed only had a few more horns and extremities than I was used to seeing.

"Mister Yi Mu," he said. My real name was Heren Gurr. Yi Mu was the name my Chinese friends had given me, which translated roughly to "One Eye" or "Cyclops." I had a set made up for travelling incognito on business.

The Atlantean handed me back my papers, gave me a visitor's pass and I shuffled through the entranceway and onto Atlantis' soil. I kept going past the Kydian guard detail, pausing to stare at the two-story tall tapestry depicting High Lord T'Lan in some sort of benevolent pose. As much as I resented it my co-workers were right, I did look like a Splugorth, the humanoid ones anyway. Another decent looking fellow. Perhaps things weren't quite so bad.

I snagged a travel brochure from one of the nearby racks, side-stepped the flailing tentacles of an Octoman, and went outside. I found a hovertaxi pilot who promised a nice, scenic view of Splynn.

I sat back and forgot all about business.

**_* * * * *_**

One of the great things about being Toke Tuul is that most people never suspect you're a thief. I spent several years travelling between the worlds of the Three Galaxies making a fair living plying my trade, using the cover of an art dealer or decorative consultant and never got looked at twice. Well, at least not initially. I worked mainly the starports. It was surprising how many people would lock their valuables in those public lockers while they went to enjoy an aperitif with a friend or travelling companion. I simply sat nearby, tapped into their thoughts with my psionics (another nice thing about my race) and then went and collected the goodies. There were countermeasures, as most terminals had surveillance cameras, but I could simply open any locker near to theirs, and block the camera with my eight-foot frame, while I made a few quick slices to the lock with the laser scalpel imbedded in my wristwatch. I got quite good at it.

Unfortunately, the authorities not only investigated the crimes, but also studied who was in the area, so I was forced to alter my travel plans at the behest of local security from time to time. This wasn't too much of a problem in a place the size of the Three Galaxies.

I also had some legitimate skills which let me hold regular jobs, which is how I fell in with my current employers. I was a fair pilot and I could handle most civilian hyperthrusters and soon found work as a smuggler, I mean courier, on the Pagoda system within the United Worlds of Warlock. I didn't own a craft, but was able to rent one and charge accordingly. My Eidetic Memory helped me pick up Japanese and Chinese pretty fast, the two main languages of Pagoda, which didn't hurt me either.

Piloting requires a certain amount of physical conditioning and like the rest of my race, I tend to only do what's absolutely necessary, physically. I found that the martial arts was a good way of keeping in shape and learning protection at the same time. On Pagoda, this was combined with the art of Mudra meditation, which taught me patience and planning and let me sit on my keister for extended periods of time. I was able to pick up some extra cash on the side, sparring with other members in the dojo. I was near the middle of the pack, talent-wise, but I found mixing my bio-manipulative powers with punches and kicks was invariably a winning combination. That's how I met my boss.

Unfortunately he was psychic too. So was his friend, a hulking, nine-foot Pume, named Hu Mei, who'd I seen about breaking boards and bricks for a light workout. They took me aside, explained they knew what I was up to. Fortunately they were as ethically challenged as I was and offered me a position. I could work for them, or they'd expose me to the rest of the dojo. It was an easy choice, as fighting a handful of men at once would have been suicidal.

So I became their courier. Small jobs at first until they felt I could be trusted. I discovered little by little that they were all professional thieves and quite good at it. Their crimes ran the gamut from simple larcency and extortion to industrial espionage. They weren't the big fish in the pond, that was held by a handful of Oni Ninja clans who secretly controlled Pagoda. They simply kicked protection money upstairs, stayed out of the Oni's way and were free to conduct their own business.

My last job for them was actually fairly easy. I'd met my boss Chano, on the neutral world of Ganzet, where he appropriated an ancient manuscript (or Sutra as his friend Jen Lao called it) for a commission. He neutralized the museum's security measures, absconded with the book and handed it off to me. We split up and headed back to Pagoda, without any problems.

Jen Lao was a small, craggly-faced Chinese, a Wu Shih (sorcerer), who was quite happy to see me with the book, which he said was called "Yi's Travel Sutra". I was paid 60,000 credits in gems for my part and told to "hang around", while he read it, which I did. A few days later with most of the group gone their separate ways on other jobs, I was elected to accompany Jen Lao on a trip.

The old coot took me to the wilderness on the outskirts of the Zhu District, where we went spelunking. I hate hiking, prefering to ride in tram cars or anti-grav vehicles whenever possible, but had no choice in the matter, since my psychic ability to remember things was one of the reasons they'd ordered me to come. Eidetic Memory or no, I hated the thought of being trapped underground for a few hours -- nevermind a few days. The old coot burned a small piece of calligraphy and with a groundshaking rumble a huge tunnel opened up magically in front of us. Using a chi-burning lamp to see and marked passages from the book as our guide, we wound our way through the maze of tunnels as Yi had done, centuries before. What compounded my anxiety was that I wasn't permitted to smoke, since Jen Lao felt it was a necessary precaution in navigating the maze of tunnels. There was no telling who or what might be down here.

For almost two days we hiked, wandering into dead ends and retracing our steps before finding new passages and eventually making our way into the Eternal Forest of the Fu-Sang. Whatever that was. It turned out to be a pristine forest, filled with birds and creatures of all types, bathed in sunlight from a brilliant blue, nearly cloudless sky. According to Yi's journal, the tattooed archer had slipped into the forest from the caves, past the guardian (a Ki-Lin or dragon-horse) and slain nine of Xi He's ten children as a favor to the Emperor Yao. Yi was then imprisoned by the immortal Di Jun for his crime. Great. Luckily we weren't here to take anybody out. We'd come to find a way into the Forest and pick up a few "goodies" as Jen Lao put it. I wondered what Di Jun's views were on trespassing.

We rested a day while Jen Lao's chi spirit followed the Ki-Lin and its baby around the forest at a discreet distance. I took the opportunity to smoke like a fiend as well as practicing meditation in the shade and otherwise relaxing while he tended to business. After returning, he dragged me a few miles to a huge tree, set off by its lonesome. Then he handed me a shovel. More menial work. I was beginning to have second thoughts about Chano's offer. The ground nearby was already dug up and he screamed at me to move to other side of the tree, which I did. The Ki-Lin had been teaching its offspring how to live in the forest and had dug up the roots of the tree with its powerful hooves so they could chew it. Apparently the bark covering the root of the Mulberry tree, was a natural agent in killing worms in the belly. Like I cared. Watching what I eat was good enough for me. However, when he used a special rune-covered dagger to slice the bark off the root and bag it, I sensed he was after something alchemical in nature. I was right. The tree possessed a magical aura.

And the root was the reason I was in Atlantis.

Hu Mei the Pume wanted to expand his repetoire. He'd been a second story thief for most of his career but had cashed in nicely when he hit upon the idea of masquerading as a Raksasha, a powerful demon cat. He looked like one to begin with, and since the best cons are those that are rooted in reality, it seemed perfect. He was a powerful psychic too and could summon a large, scimitar-shaped psi-sword and perform a few other powers that made it worth exploring further. This coupled with a holo-belt and a few props had convinced his first two victims that he was indeed a demonspawn and they should be glad to give up their cash and valuables in exchange for their lives.

Unfortunately the last group he scammed had a friend who was by no means a slouch as a Ley Line Walker and specialized in demon lore. Things went downhill from there quickly. Hu Mei barely escaped with his life. My Mudra training helped me suppress any humorous thoughts I might have as I gazed at the burnt patches of fur on his pelt. Well, that, coupled with memories of his huge fist smashing through six, thick boards in combination with his Kaijutsu yell, helped me put things in perspective.

He then hit upon the idea to improve his con and after doing some research and decided that using one of the mystic worms the Splugorth exploited called Zembahk, was the answer. These large slugs were psionic and had magical powers to boot. They were also used to being submissive, so he could keep one nearby, give it telepathic commands and reap the rewards.

The trouble was they weren't cheap, and went for at least a half-million credits a pop. You couldn't just kidnap one either. Like I'd said, they were psionic and magical, which made running off with one nigh-on impossible. So, Hu Mei got Chano involved who knew of the story of Yi the Archer and the Eternal Forest of the Fu-Sang; he brought in Jen Lao, and then finally me. The bottom link in the foodchain.

The bark of the Fu-Sang's root would kill normal worms, but given Jen Lao's alchemical abilities he felt he could whip up a nice batch of sleep-goo for a Zembahk. There'd been similar anesthetics for humanoids for milennia. Absorbed through the skin, it would go nighty-night and you could walk away with it without everyone within 100 feet knowing about it. Zembahks were fairly sturdy so Jen tested varying strength mixtures on some sea eels native to Pagoda and got it to work like a charm.

Since Chano was headed into CCW space for some sort of espionage operation, and Hu Mei was heading off into Hargital Combine territory to eavesdrop on an industrial meeting, I'd been elected to go to Atlantis. It was much easier to access than the Splugorth kingdom near the Threshold.

Hu had put his big paw my shoulder, "You go to Atlantis, find me a Zembahk and bring it back and I'll cut you in." He gave me 80,000 credits for expenses. "Don't come back without one."

_THE NEXT DAY_

My views on Atlantis were changing. Rapidly.

I picked up a Kittani hover pod today. Free of charge.

I'd spent the morning and afternoon scouting a few sellers of the mystic worms who were near my hotel, the Grand Eye. Unfortunately they seemed quite capable security-wise and their prices were very expensive to boot. Every worm I saw commanded a price upwards of 600,000 credits. 

So, after a hard day of poking, prodding and measuring Zembahk hides under the watchful eyes of Maxi-Killers, T-Men and Kydian bodyguards, I returned to my hotel just after suppertime, unsure of what to do next. The hotel was a massive fifty-story skyscraper, one of many built in Splynn. The night was cool and the view from my twenty-seventh floor balcony was amazing as I could see the lights of half the city. It also gave me a perfect view of the hotel's private aerial pad, where all sorts of craft, both magical and mundane could land and guests could park their own. The pad was two stories below and big enough for a half-dozen small craft or a single flying barge. I noticed one of the owners in the lobby this morning and we exchanged a few words. Turned out he played cards, so I let him beat me a few hands before starting my scouting expedition. 

After I watched him leave the landing pad, I gave him enough time to get to his room and get comfortable before I went to see him. I offered to treat him to a night of debauchery on the town, on me. He was a minor psychic from someplace called the Federation of Magic, here on Rifts Earth. I convinced him to fix a couple of drinks and play a few hands of cards before we'd depart. He was happy to talk about his aircraft. Halfway through the second rubber I bio-manipulated him into a paralytic clench, slapped a pair of Sleep-Fast, Sleep-Long dermal patches over the veins bulging on his forehead, tucked him into bed and snatched the keys to his ride, taking care to place the DO NOT DISTURB sign as I snuck out the door. Those patches would keep him in never-never land for at least 96 hours. Thirty minutes later I was zipping in between the many spires of downtown Splynn, dodging flying gargoyles, magical barges and startling the occaisional Kryygorth Pegasus and rider. He hadn't been kidding about the Techno-Wizard enhancements: it could go Invisible, had a Mystic Alarm and it's engine roar had been muffled down to that of an idling groundcar. The cockpit bubble could melt and rebuild itself with a thought, making the need for a hatch or door superflous. It was a single person vehicle, but that mattered little. Stormspire had outdone itself tricking out this baby. All told it was worth millions. All I had to do was sell it or get it back to Center -- and not let my friends find out. I'd probably sell it as it was a bit unpleasant to look at in my estimation. I thought briefly about selling it or trading it for one of the worms, but I had no papers for it, besides, I was on a roll...

Back to business. According to my now sleeping beneficiary, the farther from the hotel, and downtown in particular, the cheaper prices got and he knew a few outlying shopping areas that I might try. My problem was that I really disliked showing my face in these places, because someone might remember me. I'd rather have help, preferably someone willing and not too bright. From what I'd already seen, security was very tight.

By midnight I was invisibly winging my way towards the outskirts of Splynn. I noticed my feelings about the trip had changed dramatically. I felt good, confident. What really tickled me was the bootleg Pythonan skin racing gloves I discovered in the glovebox fit perfectly.

Twenty minutes later, the hover pod's sensor suite located a likely place and I set the craft down in an empty park. Son of a gun, the grass didn't even look matted!

Since I was still developing my Meng Quia (mind walk) I'd found a neat way to do so without exposing my helpless body overtly. As my chi-spirit roamed the area, I'd be forced to leave my body behind to conduct my surveillance. My helpless, unconscious body. Despite my change in attitude, I wasn't feeling _that_ good about Atlantis. My meditative practices had advanced me to the 3rd Mudra of Immobility and I could turn my soft, blue skin into stone for long periods of time. Unfortunately the mind walk worked for only a limited duration so I had to be near my destination as I hadn't developed the talent of teleporting yet. It was important to unite my spirit and body before the power ran out, otherwise it was like tying on a lu-lu. There were a few things in my favor. One was that I'd noticed since arriving in Atlantis the Splugorth were unparalleled egotists, second to none (well maybe except for the Kreeghor) and the city abounded with all forms of statues and sculptures built in their likeness and honor. The other was that a fair amount of these were magical in nature. My plan was to simply assume the position for the 3rd Mudra, turn into a stone statue, then cruise the neighborhood invisibly in spirit form. After all my statue-form would resemble a Sploog and my body would radiate psychic energy to boot. It was a chancy proposition but I felt I could pull it off.

The area had a small stone courtyard, with a few benches and a small fountain, but otherwise devoid of sculpture. Standing near a wall next to a row of businesses, I cleared my mind, worked my shoulders a few times to relax and assumed the position for the 3rd Mudra of Immobility: hands flat, palms up towards the sky. 

Within minutes my soft skin and clothing had hardened into rock, allowing me to join the landscape and adding another stone icon to the endless list of Splugorth monuments in Splynn.

I activated my Zenjoriki ability and took a stroll around the area.

It took two nights to find what I was looking for: a Zembahk and a partner.

_TWO NIGHTS LATER_

Unlike the previous nights when I reunited my spirit with my statue-body, I was the only one in the area. Tonight I was joined by the physical form of a humanoid. I studied the scene with my disembodied mind: my statue was standing exactly where I'd left it, but there was a creature next to it, moving in an odd fashion. The creature stood, half bent at the waist, studying my body before stumbling closer. I moved my spirit in and discovered that underneath the unkemp, mop of hair were the pointy ears of an elf, snot-faced drunk and swaying gently at the knees.

"By the g-gods that are h-h-holy," slurred the elf, "Another ug-g-gly spa-loo-gee who thinks hiss-self all-m-mighty." The elf gave a half salute that ended in an obscene gesture. I stepped around him and found the source of the elf's intoxicaton: an empty bottle of Devil's Brew laying nearby.

Well this wasn't much of threat, despite the fact I'd used most of my inner strength during the mind walk. I could simply return to my body and wait until the drunk left, but I had planned to do so during the cover of night, so that there was less of a chance of being noticed when I returned to flesh. The trouble was that time was drawing very near. It'd be light soon and I hated to be spotted transforming by some passerby, or have the statue remain out too long and be discovered by the authorities who would know it to be false. I also hadn't enough inner strength left for another mind walk just to check that the coast was clear. As a statue, I couldn't meditate to replenish the energy required to power my psionics. My meditation discipline required a different stance.

But something did occur to me. The risk of stealing a Zembahk was high. I'd already formulated the basis of a plan. However I wanted to make sure that suspicion didn't point to me. This patsy, er, elf, might come in handy.

"Well y-y-ou're not ya know," continued the elf, "An-n-n I can p-p-rove it." The drunken man reached inside his jacket and pulled out a bag and proffered the contents before the statue's face. "Y-yup, I took umm. All of umm. Lil' ol' m-me. By daylight I'-l-l b-be the most wanted man in S-s-splynn."

Had my spirit possessed a body at this point I would have experienced an intense cold shiver. Inside the bag were the chipped noses, ears, horns and the crumbled remains of other prominent extremities broken off statues around town.

This was no good. Losing a finger, ear or hand in statue form amounted to letting the elf cut it off my flesh with a knife. I had no option but to return to the rock now and hope I could release the Mudra in time to avoid this drunken vandal. I panicked when the elf stood on his tip-toes and tapped my big, beautiful eye -- the only one I had -- with his hand.

I ended the mind walk and my spirit returned immediately inside the statue. My mind slowly became aware of my body as it turned more and more supple. As usual my legs stung with pins and needles from keeping them rock-solid motionless for such an extended period of time. The star-speckled, night sky of Splynn slowly broke through the pitch-blackness that had enveloped me while turned to stone. The surroundings took shape as my eye formed a blurred picture of the courtyard scene I'd witnessed a minute before. 

Relief flooded over me as suddenly I could see! There was also no pain. The elf was still there, facing me, though the creature's eyes hit my eight foot tall, dee-bee form at about chest level. I could hear him whistling. I tried to move my legs, then felt a sudden relief as the feeling in them rushed back! Something else flooded over me too as I was suddenly aware that I was...wet.

The elf had decided to first defile the Splugorth statue by urinating on it.

The warm liquid soaked my pants and ran down my legs, pooling in my magic boots. Flames of anger welled up inside me like a fusion reactor, not to mention the fact he wasn't able to carry a tune. Had I the inner strength, I would have bio-manipulated him onto his knees in pain. My feet sloshed uncomfortably inside my boots. The amount of liquid waste he produced was amazing. How much had the drunken sod downed? I glanced over at the broken bottle. Only a half-pint and the bastard was still going.

The elf became aware the statue he'd mistaken for a Splugorth Powerlord was moving and he swayed back suddenly onto his heels, head up, mouth open and eyes wide in surprise. I quickly weighed the pros and cons of stabbing the man in the heart with my Kisentite dagger. It was an appealing thought, but unfortunately and ironically, his appearance was too good of an opportunity to pass up and I had to settle for a quick elbow to his jaw. The drunk keeled head over heels, his skull clunking on the worked stone of the courtyard. I narrowly avoided the last spurt of his fountain show.

I shook myself off, kicked his unconscious form twice in frustration before calming myself with a brief mantra of meditation.

What was done, was done. 

I needed to figure out how to get him back to my hotel.

_THE NEXT MORNING_

"What's that?" asked the elf, gently patting the large, tender lump on his skull.

I towered over the now-conscious man sprawled on the floor of my hotel room. I wagged a sheet of paper in front of his face.

"It's the bill for my dry-cleaning," my voice was just a hair short of a full-blown yell. "My robe, my pants and my favorite boots...look at it! It's all your fault!" Of course everything was replaceable with the exception of the boots, spell-laden and according to the merchant in the Warlock Market on Center, would never wear out and were weather-proof. But that was their outsides, not their insides. The rare Pagodan silk of my robe and pants meant special hand processing by a mage. The quote nearly topped 1000 credits. I flung it to the floor in front of him.

The elf crawled backwards, trying to sink deeper into the corner. I pressed in close.

"Do you know how long it took me to find a taxicab driver who'd take you in his cab?" Luckily, there had been no room in the hover pod. I could barely handle the smell with just me in there. I was definitely going to sell it now. 

"Not to mention charging me to help drag your passed-out butt into it." The night's happenings were coming back to the elf, slowly, in fuzzy sort of way, like a sink being filled.

"Look, I'm sorry," the elf reached up inside his left forearm sleeve for something.

I shook my head. The stiletto he'd hidden in a scabbard there was on the dresser on the other side of the room. Same with the laser pistol he had been carrying in an underarm holster.

"Then you should have seen the hotel staff, staring." The landing pad had been full when I got back and I had to bring him in through the main lobby. "They charged me double once they found out I wasn't going to kill you. I might end up with a surcharge just in case they have to perform a body removal."

"Maybe I should leave," the elf's bravado from the previous night had left him.

I dumped the bag of broken extremities on the floor in front of him, causing him to freeze in horror. The sink was full. I picked up the cleaning bill and shook my head.

"I'm not sure whether I can get more for your carcass from a bio-chopshop," I toed the pieces of rock, "Or from the Splugorth for catching the vandal responsible for this. Whaddaya think they'd do to you? My guess is they'll fix you with a Lung Lock or a Brain Leash, and have you removing birdshit from city statues until you've passed on." My Zembahk hunting had exposed me to some of the other personal customizations local bio-wizards had to offer.

There was a long silence, as I transfixed the elf with my large, blue orb.

"Or..." the elf finally ventured.

"Or you agree to help me with a small matter," I lowered my voice suddenly, turning the exchange conversational. Relief flooded back into his face immediately.

The elf eyed the statue pieces, tossed up his hands and nodded, "Yeah, sure, I, uh, don't see why not."

"I'm not going to regret this am I?" 

The elf shook his head.

I bio-manipulated the elf to his knees in a sudden, vicious, psychic attack. He doubled up in pain and fell, gasping and groaning. In between returning to the Grand Eye and now, I had regained most of my inner strength. Besides, I felt I owed him one.

I repeated the question, "I'm not going to regret this am I?"

"Noooo..." groaned the elf, "I-I-I'll h-help youuuu..."

The pain left as suddenly as it had come. The elf's breathing became a labored series of gasps.

For further effect, I reached down and grasped him by the hair, wrenching his head up to look him in my eye.

"Good, as long as we understand each other. What's your name?"

"Grallon."

"I'm Cyclops," I replied and then handcuffed him to the bed rail and got dressed.

"I have to go out for a while. You stay here, get some rest. With a little luck this will soon be over."

_THAT AFTERNOON_

"It's bark from the root of a Mulberry tree," I explained in response to the question posed by the Water Merchant. Thanks to my ghostly surveillance I knew when the fellow was present at his store, and made sure I dealt with him personally.

The small, grey demon nodded, before leading me over to an antique desk covered with papers and odds and ends. This portion of the store's wall held bookshelves and he retrieved a time-weathered tome. As he turned the pages I maintained the mind block I had in place, so that neither the Water Merchant nor his pet Zembahk, or any of the store's staff or customers could invade my thoughts.

"Here it is," he tapped the page with his talon, "Morus Nigra. Juice from leaves are a remedy for the bites of serpents and as an antidote for those who have taken Monkshood." He pushed his finger down farther while he skipped ahead, stopping when he came to the properties of the bark. "The bark of the root kills broad worms in the belly."

"Yes, I'm familiar with it's properties. I just don't know how to prepare it. I have a small child who's inflicted by such a malady and I'm afraid bio-wizard microbes are beyond my, uh, pocketbook," I gave him an embarrassing smile.

This caught the merchant demon's eye, "I'm afraid my fees are not inconsequential."

"Nor would I expect them to be," I countered, quickly adding, "I'd be willing to give you the rest of what I have, in addition to say, three thousand credits." I showed him six more pieces of bark, each about six inches long. I knew he could turn a profit from them. "I can always get more."

"Agreed," he said after a moment's consideration. He took the other bark samples and bagged them.

"Do you think you could distill it into a light syrup, something I could put on the boy's food?"

"Yes, that's within our expertise. Come back in a week."

I thanked the him and made like I was leaving. I stopped to enjoy a cup of refreshing water and browse, playing briefly with the merchant's small Zembahk that lay coiled upon a shelf, before leaving. It seemed to function like a security cam; looking everytime someone entered the front door and generally keeping its only eye on things. Not a bad looking creature really.

It was where it had been for last two days and nights. Now it was time to move.

_THAT EVENING_

"You're crazy," spat the elf, "That Zembahk's huge compared to the size of any intestinal worms. That stuff ain't gonna do squat."

I lit a smoke and nodded, "Normally I'd have to agree with you, but that bark isn't from an ordinary Mulberry tree. It's from the giant Fu-Sang in the Eternal Forest. It has magical properties."

Grallon didn't know whether to believe me or not.

"I've watched a Ki-Lin uncover the roots with its hooves, then rip the bark off, chew the cud and swallow as it taught it's offspring about life in the forest." I hadn't done so first-hand, but that's what Jen Lao had told me that day.

"What's a Ki-Lin?"

"A unicorn."

This seemed to strike a chord with the elf. The beasts were creatures of magic and possessed the secrets of nature.

"How the hell did you get into this Eternal Forest?" spat the elf, looking for proof I wasn't having him on. A pained look suddenly overtook him and he motioned with his hands for mercy.

"Tsk, tsk. I thought I wasn't going to have any trouble with you?" I said in between puffs, before finally terminating his psi-torture.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. This is a bit overwhelming. Now uh, what do you want me to do?"

"The Water Merchant's Zembahk is friendly. Go over and play with it and smear this solution on its head and body while you pet it. Don't worry, it loves the attention. I've seen numerous customers play with it and I even did so myself." I stubbed out my cigarette. "Then go back and take a vial I'm going to give you, to him. Ask him to examine it to tell you what it is. Then when he goes in the back, snatch the worm on the way out. The mixture is fast acting. It should be sound asleep."

"And bring it back here?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. I'll be checking out tonight, moving to a new place. I've done some looking about and found a charming little hovel for you near the northwest edge of Splynn." I handed him a couple hundred credits. "You'll get a room there. After you filch the worm, take it back to your place and keep applying that potion to it every three hours to keep it unconscious. I don't want it broadcasting any cries for help."

The elf nodded. Good. I didn't want him leading anyone straight to me.

"I'll be in touch. I'll pick a place where we can meet and you can bring me the worm."

I dug into my pocket and pulled out a small piece of folded paper which I gave him.

"When you give me the worm, I'll give you another one of these."

He unfolded the paper and found the address for the Splynn Crest Rooming House -- and a gem -- inside.

"Go get it appraised. You'll see that I've made this is worth your while."

_THE NEXT NIGHT_

I chose the Chaotic Spirits as the rendezvous point with Grallon for a variety of reasons. I'd been coming here each night since I'd run into him, so I wouldn't look out of place. The establishment also had an eighty foot roof to accomodate its massive entryway. The roof had a small spire with a navigation beacon so flying craft and creatures could avoid it, or in my case find it. Best of all it had a nice spot where I could plunk down the hover pod unnoticed to those on the ground. My magic boots took care of reaching the ground as they allowed me to walk or run along any surface independent of relative gravity. I knew the theory about tesseracts from math class but leave it to some Spatial Mage to find a practical use for it. A hot item with the Warlock Marines, Special Forces and the police, I picked up a surplus pair on Center. So, I simply parked the pod, and walked down the side of the building into the alley and around to the front, and no one seemed the wiser. Tonight there were a pair of Kydian posted out front as guards but they ignored me, and the evening started no different than the last.

I got a nod from the receptionist. The first night she mistook me for a Sploog, but obviously I was not among those she knew. As before, I paid her little heed and went inside and found a nice table in the back where I could keep an eye on the doors. Earlier, I'd hired a automated Kittani robot to go to the Splynn Crest and give the elf the location where I was going to be for the next few nights.

I was used to long waits from my starport travels, so I smoked quietly, watching the throb of dancers below me. However, none of the starports I'd ever visited blasted the grating, pulsing, obnoxious music that the locals seemed to like. A Splugorth Powerlord and his entourage had overtaken a nice chunk of the dance floor and the surrounding area, and were gettin' busy. A huge, artificial eye, surrounded by spikes and tentacles hung, suspended from the ceiling by filaments. Attached to pulleys, it rose and fell, operated by a dozen slaves, causing the light that fell on the dance floor to darken and pulse erratically as the slave driver cracked his whip in tune to the beat.

An imp bummed a smoke off me just before a waitress finally showed up. I had no idea when she'd be back, so I ordered a pair of Metztla martinis, and since my stomach was growling I asked her to bring me a small bowl of appetizers. 

Shortly after the arrival of my plate of snakes and gravy, the club's congenial atmosphere was interrupted. The music died and a sudden round of applause rippled through the tavern. I figured one of the Powerlords must be heading for the john, since the locals were known for their ability to suck-up.

But I soon noticed the commotion wasn't for a Splugorth, instead, coming through the massive entranceway was a huge humanoid, easily nine feet tall. He looked somewhat human, except for his oddly, spiked orange hair set between a pair of thick ram's horns, a bulbous nose and fangs jutting up from his lower jaw. His robe's collar was drawn up and its lapels were neatly embroidered with magical sigils from his neck to his kneecaps. A pair of talismans hung from his belt. 

The fellow seated next to me gave me the scoop on the newcomer.

This was Bok, from the gladitorial pits; the city's number one combat mage. His battle-record was an impressive 45-0, the result of his usual repertoire of blasting opponents into smoldering pieces via his ability to conjure lightning, then sacrificing any left-over body parts in a fiery,  
black-magic ritual. He was a living legend. Bok stood near the doorway for a moment, basking in the gratitude of his public, something he was thoroughly accustomed to, before conjuring a Thunderclap to clear out a table of nobodys nearby. Apparently, subtlety wasn't among his charms. The horned ogre growled for a servant, who quickly scurried in to reset the table and seat their fearsome guest. From then on, a steady stream of autograph hounds and well-wishers paraded past, buying him drinks, and scurring away, happy to meet a famous celeb. I wasn't impressed, since I had other things on my mind. 

I'd hit upon another scheme. I thought about getting a Stone Master to produce several life-sized statues of me and place them about town. I could return to Pagoda, give Hu Mei his worm, then come back sometime later and see how many were still around. It might make for a good cover down the road a bit, as Splynn had other things of value to steal besides Zembahks.

The concierge at the Grand Eye, an evil-looking C'ro Demon Mage had put me in touch with an Atlantean Stone Master and he was to meet me here tonight in addition to my rendezvous with Grallon. He arrived first.

Like most True Atlanteans I'd seen, Benton wore several tattoos but no armor. He had a pair of murderous looking friends but they stayed behind at the bar, watching us closely. Benton thought my request over then slipped me a quote for his services: 500 credits for six statues and another 200 to place and mark them where I wanted. I told him I'd have to think it over and he left, so I had nothing to do but drink and smoke and wait for the elf.

Finally, about three in the morning, Grallon's form emerged from the kitchen. He stood there, looking around, before pacing in front of the crush near the bar. No one seemed to be taking any interest in him so I gathered my things. We'd go into the kitchen, make the exchange and I'd be on my way back to the dimensional pyramid and home. No sooner had I stood, than a pair of Sunaj assassins pushed their way through the crowd and nabbed him.

My heart dropped. I sat back down and tried to calm myself as he struggled with his two assailants. I nervously checked the aisle my table was located on, but saw no potential threats. Everyone was consumed in their own affairs. I composed myself, and reached out with my telepathy: Do you have the Zembahk? I could see that my message had reached him for he seemed to glance around suddenly, confused-like. I got a snippet of his thoughts: Splynn Crest...Splynn Crest...Splynn Crest...

There were no Sunaj near me, so I bulled my way through the crowd and out the front door, where I passed a tattooed Atlantean crouched in the corner like a good little slave. He gave me a good hard look, but I ignored him and with my long strides made it outside in a few steps. Instead of making my way around the huge building, I sidestepped away from the door, took a shortcut through the garden and proceeded up the front face of the building.

A mental command deactivated the hover pod's alarm, and melted the cockpit bubble as I reached the roof. Twelve seconds later I lifted off, engaged the stealth feature, and headed towards the northwest portion of Splynn as fast as possible.

_* * * * *_

I held the pod in a close hover over the Splynn Crest. The rooming house was a wooden, two-story building with a pair of top-story rooms and another pair below. The sensor scan revealed nothing sinister, so I landed the pod next to the dilapidated structure and engaged the cloak. The laser scalpel in my wristwatch took care of the front door's dead-bolt and I snuck inside. I found the desk ledger and determined that the elf was in the top-left room. What was strange was that he had paid up completely. I made my way quietly up the stairs, used my scalpel again and went inside his room.

The place looked completely vacant. There were no belongings spread about, no extra shoes or socks on the floor. No coat on the rack, no bag in the closet. I moved around the bed, which was made and went to look underneath, when something crashed through the second-story window. My nightvision showed a horned, armored figure, splayed on the floor, another Sunaj.

Before he could right himself, I jumped up the wall above the headboard, back down to the floor on the other side of the bed and was out the door in three very quick and very long steps. My heart was now thumping wildly.

I hadn't made it down more than three or four steps when I spotted another figure at the foot of the stairs. It was the owner, an elderly, handicapped Simvan, standing in the dark, his back to me, holding a Zembahk. I'd run into him scouting locations for Grallon.

There was thump above, the window crasher was moving after me. I drew the Wilks 320 from my waistband in the small of my back, thumped down a few more stairs and crouched just in time to avoid the horned, armored figure hurtling down from the top of the stairs. It was an old move I'd seen dozens of times at the dojo back on Pagoda, but with less style and even less substance.

My assailant landed near the floor, in a combat stance and I used my bio-manipulative powers, concentrating on the helmet's visor. The hands came up and out suddenly -- a reflex action that occurs when people realize they can't see -- and I countered with my own, powerful kick to the unsuspecting killer's armored chest, knocking the helpless assassin sprawling to the floor, just beyond the stairs.

Relieved, I tapped the Simvan on the shoulder with my pistol, "Excuse me, is that the Zembahk the elf left behind?"

To my horror, the Simvan's features melted away, as did the Zembahk's and I stood face to face with another Sunaj, looking down the business end of his laser pistol.

Something pressed hard against the back of my skull.

"Don't move or I'll burn your lights out," the chilling, synthesized voice flowed from a helmet speaker.

Like my heart, the Wilks went limp in my hand.

I was soon wearing living shackles on both my hands and feet, a mouthwrap on my face, and they placed a black bag over my head. I was carried outside where the sound of an engine of some vehicle pulsed, drowning out almost everything.

  
Someone shouted a series of gruff commands in an unknown language. A rope was threaded between my wrists and ankles and I was hauled painfully up aboard some sort of flying craft that was now hovering overhead. A few moments later we were moving.

Suddenly, alone in the dark with my thoughts, I realized my feelings about Atlantis had come full circle.

_THE NEXT MORNING_

For assassins the Sunaj were only marginally cruel. I endured a bit of a beating but this group seemed less interested in me and more so in my possessions. Wherever I was being held it was some sort of underground tunnel or cave with the barest of essentials. A portable lantern sat upon an old worn table, providing the cave or tunnel I was in with a small radius of light. I sat on the ground, knees up, feet together and hands on top while they went through my stuff.

I'd been relieved of my magic boots, Kisentite dagger (they were particularly wary of the laser-engraved Chinese runes on it) that radiated Jen Lao's chi-magic, and my cigarettes. My smokes were regular tobacco, except three green cigarettes with more of the white rune-like letters along them. After initiating my mind block, I had explained to them I had a medical condition and these were to help me with it. They'd also apparently found the hover pod and had brought it. Inside was my valise and working gear, Splynn travelling pass and my "other" papers. They also got the 80,000 credits Hu Mei had given me to complete my assignment.

So they interrogated me off and on for hours before their leader appeared and things got really nasty.

The first few blows were for effect, to impress upon me their sincerity of their work. I was on the ground, hobbled and spitting blood.

It turned out the elf was one of them in disguise. Shortly after the theft of the Zembahk, the Water Merchant had contracted with the Sunaj, providing a detailed description of Grallon and handing over the decoy solution I'd given him. Apparently one of the bunch had a Kihz Sensor Gauntlet, which analyzed the container and they employed it to track the elf down. They'd snagged Grallon this evening and among his things they'd found a note he'd written, with the time and place of his appointment with me, which they decided to keep. There was no sign of the elf, dead or alive.

What was fueling their anger now was that one of their number had been killed while following me outside the Chaotic Spirits. I had lost them briefly on my jaunt to the roof, but it mattered little since they'd manipulated me into returning to the Splynn Crest. After bagging me, they'd realized he was missing and gone back to find him. They discovered his corpse in the back alley. According to the kitchen staff, the unfortunate fellow had last been seen talking to Benton. Now they wanted all I knew about the Atlantean, which I gladly gave them.

I sensed an opportunity to get out of this, as they'd need me alive until they had Benton. That's when my role in future developments would get fuzzy.

They went over my association with the Stone Master once more then moved me to a holding cell, while they went hunting. It wasn't really a cell, just a cave covered by a steel door.

Here I sat for hours while they went to find the Atlantean. I decided not to be here when they got back, just in case things didn't work out. I bio-manipulated the living shackles loose, peeled off the grotesque mouthwrap and tried to relax by stretching and some meditation.

Fortunately they hadn't found my stash. In fact unless they had training as physicians or had an xray machine it was unlikely that they ever would. As a smuggler I'd had fleshpouch surgery, a common thing for couriers in the Three Galaxies. It sat on my left side, just below my lowest rib. It looked and felt like scar tissue, unless you knew what to look for and the Sunaj weren't surgeons or xeno-biologists.

I worked my finger over the scar and raised the flap of skin. I retrieved a small, thin box, about half the size of my hand. Inside were six gems (emergency money), a book of matches and three folded sheets of Jen Lao's Celestial Calligraphy. One could make me invisible, the others were my ticket to freedom.

I found the correct one, struck a match and prayed like a church-goer it would work. Within seconds a distant rumble sounded, then grew louder and the cave shook, just as it had on that day on Pagoda. According to the old coot, the magic would open up a tunnel that would link with the Tung Tien.

I jumped back as a sudden crack in the wall opened up. Relief soothed my worries. I waited a moment for it to stabilize before rushing in.

_THE NEXT DAY_

I stumbled out into the bright sunlight of the Eternal Forest. The grass was welcome relief as my bare feet ached of blisters, from the day-long hike through the rocks and dirt of the caves. It didn't take me nearly as long as it had originally since I knew the way. My expensive Pagodan silk pants and shirt were sweat-soaked, torn and deeply grimed.

I had stopped periodically to rest inside the Tung Tien, but still moved along as fast as I could to make it to the Eternal Forest. Here I knew I'd be safe, from the Sunaj or any of the other denizens of Splynn. I was dimensions away from Atlantis and I felt a whole lot better.

There was fresh water and plenty to eat. I was in no rush to burn the other piece of calligraphy. I figured on taking it easy for a few days before returning to the caves on Pagoda. I had to come up with something to tell Hu Mei.

I bathed in a stream and washed my clothes, then sat back in the shade and prepared for a long nap.

Just to be safe, I decided not to dream about Ki-Lin or Fu-Sang trees -- especially their roots.

_THE END_


End file.
